


Becoming a Loser

by EventHorizons13



Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [3]
Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Combat medic, F/M, Gen, Language, Medical Procedures, Military Backstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23659510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizons13/pseuds/EventHorizons13
Summary: Caitlin thought that she was done with the military. The Losers aren't military. Not anymore. And they fully intent to pull her right back in.
Relationships: Franklin Clay & Original Female Character(s), Franklin Clay/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075559
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. The One Time She Wasn't Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin has her first encounter with the group known as The Losers

I wasn't all that thrilled to say the least, having the three men come storming into my house. Demanding answers and demanding help. Talk about subtle. And they were supposed to be a special ops team? The thought made me want to laugh. It was one hell of an introduction to the Losers, as they so liked to call themselves. Now caught between a rock and a hard place, I didn't have much of an option but to help them out.

Pulling out the emergency medical kit, old habits die hard and all that jazz, I motioned for the two men to lay the other down on the couch. Moving through the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of vodka and a towel for him to bite down on. It wasn't going to be pretty but it wasn't like I had a lot of numbing agents here to work with. It was bare essentials more or less. Kneeling down beside the older man, I glanced up at the other two.

"When and what?"

"Ten minutes ago, bullet from a 9 mil, and a knife that was likely filthy." They were a little surprised that I hadn't asked any other questions, like why the hell they had shown up on my doorstep, or how the hell that they had gotten into this sort of trouble.

"Gonna need you guys to hold him down. Don't have enough to knock him out and this isn't going to be pleasant." He was almost out of it entirely but as soon as I was digging into his flesh, he would be wide awake. Rolling up the towel, I placed it between his lips and allowed the men to get into location. "I expect answers from you after this is all done."

"Understood ma'am." I looked down at the pale face of the man that I did not know. Handsome one, that was for sure. Stubble lined his cheek, salt and peppered, telling me he was a bit older than I had initially guessed.

"Wish I could say that this wasn't going to hurt but I am not really about lying so, better brace yourself if you are even aware enough to understand. Sorry." I muttered the apology before tearing open the shirt and assessing the wounds. The bullet hole would be fairly easy to handle. Dig the slug out and gauze it over. It was the knife wounds that I was much more concerned about. They were deep and would require a decent amount of suturing. If it was a dirty blade, I needed to clean them first which would be a bitch to handle. Pulling on my gloves, I grabbed the first supplies and went to work.

It took me well over two hours to fully patch up the unconscious man. The other two remained quiet during the entire ordeal, watching me work with the precision that I had come to be known for while I was serving. The title field medic didn't come close to what I was able to do. Add onto that the fact that I could make a lot out of the worst situations and well, I had been top ranking before the military decided that enough was enough. Washing my hands, I took a quiet moment alone in the kitchen, a few calming breaths filling my lungs and helping clear my head. I needed answers, I needed to know why they were here, how they had found me, and why now. It would be foolish to think that they had shown up here on pure dumb luck. That wasn't how the world worked.

Grabbing three beers from the fridge, I offered them to my unannounced guests.

"So, you gonna fill me in a little bit here? At least tell me your names." I kept eyes locked on them, showing I wasn't intimidated by their presence.

"I'm Pooch and that over there," He jerked his thumb in the direction of the cowboy. "Is Cougar. You just patched up Clay." I had heard the names but where?

"Monty." I introduced myself, feeling it polite, going by the nickname I had gathered over my time in the service. It gave less of an idea of my gender which I had liked. Less perceived notions off the bat, if they had my name going in before meeting me. I didn't push right away for the answer to the other, knowing that it would come eventually. Cougar looked towards me for a moment before taking a long pull from the bottle that I had handed him. Pooch was a bit more reluctant at first, not that I blamed him. Sure I had helped them, patched Clay up but that didn't mean that they could let their guard down. I respected that sort of caution. When it became clear that Pooch wasn't going to give me more of a response, the other man let out a small grunt before stepping forward.

"Beyond the obvious?" He motioned towards the sleeping Clay. "There was some talk about offering you a spot on the team. We need someone who knows their way around a needle and thread."

"Not exactly the right way to show up and offer but you did pass with flying colors whatever test he might have wanted to give you. Saved his life and that is enough for all of us."

"How many more is all of us?"

"Two, Jensen and Roque. They are bunkered down now."

"Right."

"The record is impressive. Really. Top medic every tour, the inventive ways you handle situations, the fact that you have rarely had a patient die. Not to mention, you know your way around a gun unlike some others." The compliments weren't anything I was used to. I did my job because it was my job and others got to live with the decisions that I made. That was enough for me. Serve my country and keep men alive to get home to their families. There was nothing special about it really though I knew I was good at what I did.

"Doing my job."

The talk lasted almost another hour before I pointed out that they could use the shower and crash whenever they like. I had grabbed a fresh shirt for Clay, there was an abundance of male clothing at my place with how often an army buddy stopped by. I was like a damn halfway point between service and home for some of the men. It wasn't really a struggle to get him dressed again and afterward, I changed myself. A pair of basketball shirts and a tank top made comfortable sleep wear.

I had won the argument over who was going to watch Clay. The other two didn't want to leave him out of their sights, which I completely understood since I was still really a stranger to them but I was the one with the medical knowledge and I wasn't about to let him out of my sight in case something did happen. I needed to be close and prepared. So, I curled up with a book and kept things quiet.

Maybe another two hours went by and I heard the rough intake of air, a near gasp coming from the man on my couch. He tried sitting up with a groan. I didn't take my eyes off the page I was currently reading, somewhat enthralled by the novel.

"Take it easy there Sleeping Beauty. I would appreciate it if you didn't rip open those stitches. They were hell to get in and really, your body doesn't need any more trauma. Neither does my poor floor." His eyes snapped over to me and I knew I should have acknowledged him in some other fashion but I was still a bit peeved about the whole barging into my apartment, the whole following thing that they had managed. Sure it was impressive but still rubbed me the wrong way.

"Where are my men?"

"Didn't I just tell you to take it easy? I will restrain you to that couch if I need be. Don't tempt me. As far as thing one and two, Cougar has passed out in the spare bedroom and Pooch is in the shower." I jerked my thumb down the hall behind us. "You've been out for a few hours. Lay back down already. It isn't like you are going anywhere tonight. Your men will make sure of that, orders or not. That knife did a number on you. Dirty as all hell too so I am going to have to get you some antibiotics tomorrow." I flicked the page forward, finally risking a glance towards Clay. He was studying me carefully to which I cocked a brow, a challenging statement towards whatever observations that he had been making. He lifted up the shirt that he now sported and took in the neat, near flawless stitching work that I had done.

"Gotta admit, haven't seen many able to get it done that nicely."

"Wasn't easy. Bastard had a dull blade didn't he? Dull blades always cut more raggedly. Effective still but hurts like a bitch."

"Pooch or Cougar tell you why we are here?"

"Oh, you mean there was a greater idea on their minds than their bleeding out commanding officer?" He clearly wasn't enjoying the lip that I was giving him but at this point, I found myself not caring all that much. "Yeah, they let on some things. Not exactly a clear explanation but enough to leave me feeling more than uncomfortable with you lot. Lucky I didn't toss your asses right back out of this apartment." I finally set the book aside and leaned forward, bracing my elbows against my knees and motioned for him to lay back down, which he still hadn't done.

"You still need more sleep and frankly, I need some shut eye myself after the eventful day I had. You are all safe here for the time being and come tomorrow, I want more answers before I giving you any of my own. It's the least you can do." He nodded his agreement at that, his mind working clearly at a whirlwind pace. Getting up, I got him a blanket before moving back to the chair and getting myself comfortable. My knife was off to the side along with my pistol. I would keep an eye on the door until he feel back asleep and then try to get a little myself. Surely, we were all light sleepers so if something were to happen, well we would all be up.

"We're gonna need a little more help from you." So, he wasn't going to go to sleep. I could have groaned but I refrained.

"Persistent aren't you?" At that, I was granted a small chuckled from the man.

"You could say that."

"What's the deal with you and your team?"

"We take out the bad guys." Had I expected a more detailed answer?

"Yeah, and we need air to breath."

"Things aren't always black and white. It's that grey area that we operate in alright? There are people who are corrupt and out for their own interests." That was the understatement of the century. It was a lesson I already knew well. "We are trying to flush them out and put an end to anyone tied to our former handler, Max." That was a better explanation.

"Ain't no rest for the wicked." I was sick of hearing all the news about war, having to see friends be shipped overseas, just like I had. More and more were coming back in coffins though. And we weren't exactly making the world a safer place, as much as we had fought for it. "You know I am going to need to see some backup for all of this."

"I know. Already had Jensen work something out. Once we get moving, you will get filled in." I was agreeing to this already wasn't I? After the service, I didn't have much filling in the void. I missed being of use, oddly enough missed being in the thick of things. It was where I thrived, I needed it to give me the sense of purpose that had kept me going. Taking out a couple more bad guys who were actually bad guys didn't seem like too bad of a gig.

"Understood."


	2. Proven Skill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlin shows the men her skills extend beyond medical knowledge.

"I'm trying my best to be polite, but if you move that knife a centimeter closer to me, I will tear you apart." Over the years I had found myself in a lot of sticky situations. It was the nature of the beast after all, being a solider. This though, this might have taken the cake. The rest of the team, my team my brain corrected me, were tied up and beaten down. Pooch and Cougar were unconscious on the ground and Clay wasn't all that far off. Jensen was as quiet as a mouse, keeping his head down, not wanting to anger anyone else. Roque? Well, I couldn't read the man even after a few months with them. I glanced away from them, knowing that my attention needed to be on the man that was yielding the knife in my face. As he inched closer, I could feel my body tensing, readying for the fight. It was going to be a hell of a one. I wondered briefly how we managed to get into this position.

**************************************

I laughed softly before tossing back the rest of the beer. Openly, we mocked Jensen but it was with care. There was a bit of a blush on his face as he flipped us off, not wanting to deal with the jabs we were throwing. I nudged Cougar just a bit and nodded towards the incoming figure. He shook his head a bit, the smile not fading from his face. We allowed Pooch to continue spouting off while we remained silent. Roque and Clay were approaching, meaning that playtime was almost over.  
"Well boys, I think I'll collect my winnings now." I pulled the pile of guns and knives along with the meager amount of cash towards me.

"Really? We're just getting started."

"Losers!" I pulled my legs down off the table that we had been using and turned my attention to Clay. Oh, someone was not in a good mood. That meant a perfectly lovely day for all of us. I had come to find that these moods weren't very often. In fact, the team worked better and ran better-oiled than any unit I had come across. Which made it a bit awkward to find a place to fit in but three of the five members were exceedingly welcoming while one was welcoming but closed off and the final wanted nothing to do with me. Not that I had a problem with that. I didn't get in Roque's way and he didn't get in mind. I just patched him up when necessary and we moved on. He probably wasn't going to warm up to me and I wasn't about to waste my energy on trying to make it happen. Men like him were too stubborn, too stuck in their ways. No amount of argument on my end could change all that.

"We have some new intel on Max." That instantly had our attention, all the jokes and playful jabs that had dominated the previous moments vanished. This was what they had been working so hard towards, what was now a mission of my own. They had been like a hungry dog chasing after a steak for some time and any chance to hit Max, no matter who or what it was, the chance was taken. Everyone sat on the edge, waiting to hear what our leader would say.

"Seems that he has some new hires." He tossed down the files that he was holding. Jensen and Pooch were the first to pick some up. My brow furrowed for a moment as I studied Clay, looking for any sign of where this conversation was going. He was a bit quieter than usual, which meant that he wasn't happy with the information that he was providing us. Anything else, I wasn't able to read as I was forced to focus on the file that was shoved under my nose.

Picking through the information, I was more confused by the second. It looked like a copycat squad. Did Max think that he was able to just replace the men that were surrounding me? I had learned quickly that these men were very good at what they did so how did he not learn that lesson? Flipping through the pages, it was more of the same. The difference that was beginning to stand out as more of the background of these men was revealed? They weren't as heroic, self-sacrificing, or as good as the Losers. These were men with violent backgrounds, court marshals, crimes and the like littered the reports more than anything that would prove them capable of being anything more than thugs. There was almost nothing here that they hadn't done.

"Christ, he scrapped the bottle of the barrel for these thugs." I muttered more to myself than anything else but apparently, it was an echoed sentiment.

"This his response to us?"

"Like looking into a mirror, except it's creepy and evil." I rolled my eyes a bit at the comment from Jensen but chose to overlook it for the time being because he was sort of right.

"So, he recruits his own team, similar enough to this one all in an attempt to what? Throw us off with some psychological bullshit? Combat anything that we might throw at him? Piss us off?" I could be counted among that group now that I had my own encounters with the psycho. He had caused me to spill some blood and that was enough for me to hold a grudge.

"I'm thinking that he is getting ready to move something important and who doesn't need a little muscle to manage that? He seemed to lose some faith in Wade so this was his response."

"Least Wade had some brains in his head. Probably more than these five combined." Iwasn't trying to underestimate these men but in my experience, these sort of men ran more off instinct and drive than any full thought process.

"Doesn't make them any less dangerous."

"Didn't say that it didn't. In fact, makes them more so." I rubbed at my neck, feeling uncomfortable about this as the seconds ticked passed. Something bad was going to happen. It was one of those gut feelings that all soldiers learned to trust when they were in the field.

"And we need to stop whatever it is that he is moving." Of course we did.

"When do we ship out?"

"Now."

As expected, nothing ran smoothly. The bastards were a lot more intelligent than their profiles gave them credit for and right now I was cursing up a storm about the fact. We all should have known better, really we should have. Now Roque's evil twin, if he had an evil twin, was staring me down, waving the knife around with a sick grin on his face. I had about enough of the games. If we were going to die, I was taking down as many of them as I could. Enough focusing on being a medic. Time to be a solider. The man was confident, almost overly so. While I couldn't beat him just matching strengths, I could move quicker than him surely. I was going to have to work light on my feet and grab the first available weapon that came to my sight.

"I mean really, we hadn't even shot at you and this is the treatment that we get? It really isn't all that inviting." He lunged and I managed to jump back in time to avoid getting slashed in the stomach. "Alright, fine. You want to play it this way." I ducked under an incoming arm, spinning on my heels as quick as possible, glad I did. He had moved faster than I anticipated. Shit, shit, shit. Alright, lives on the line here, I had to keep myself on my game. There was a knife on his belt that I might have been able to get. There weren't any crates, any pipes, and they certainly hadn't left any guns laying around. It was risky and was going to get me hurt, there was no way around it. I couldn't get that close and not come away bleeding. But it was the only option I was seeing at the moment.

Slamming down my elbow into his forearm as he went for another stab, I stepped into his body and threw my other elbow at his chest. It knocked some of the air from him, allowing my free hand to move to grab the knife. It was almost freed entirely when I felt the blade enter my shoulder. There was no stopping the pained yelp that echoed through the building. He dug the blade in, my arm simultaneously on fire and filling with the tingles that signaled numbness wasn't far off. That wasn't good.

"Mother fucker." He laughed and went to twist the blade. The action was never complete as I stabbed the stolen blade into his ribs, driving it as hard as I could, twisting it almost immediately. As I pulled it out, I made sure to slice along whatever skin I could, maiming and looking to make sure that he remained off balance and unable to fight back before plunging the knife into his chest. There was a promise to make good on and he had hurt some of my team. It was only fair he experienced some of the same suffering before he died. His weight went to drop and I had to step away, least he end up taking me down with him.

My brain screamed at me to stop, assess my shoulder but instead, I took the bastards shirt, cut it up the best I could and tied off my shoulder, leaving the blade embedded for now. Considering I didn't know the extent of the wound, it was better to cause some more damage than risk pulling out a possible stopper of blood. Gritting my teeth and ignoring the way that my vision was hazing for the time being, I was going to work until I dropped. There was still another man out there.

I cut through the ties bindings of the men. Checking on Pooch and Cougar was my top priority since they were out cold. The others were at least stable enough. Roque was on his feet helping Jensen to his so they could carry Clay back to the van. He wasn't able to make it on his own even though he protested. Even Jensen did a bit, wanting me checked on first. I waved it off. I was the medic, I made sure everyone else was in okay shape before worrying about myself. Even if I didn't think that I was going to stay conscious that long. My vision was darkening by the second but the lives of my teammates were in my hands and that was a responsibility that I would never shuck. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and the pain was becoming worse. I wouldn't stay on my feet much longer. 

Pulses were strong and their breathing was steady. Neither of them seemed to be wounded too seriously anywhere which meant no major blood loss. It was a relief, they were okay. I sat beside them, allowing my eyes to close. We had done a poor job today but we had come out the other side, we were all still alive and at the end of the day, I found that was often what mattered most. Missions and jobs could always be accomplished given the time and energy necessary but losing a brother in arms was something that never went away. It was haunting in a way that a failed mission never was.


End file.
